


Of Sneaking and Scents II

by Crowgirl



Series: The Perfume 'verse [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, First Time, Gift Fic, M/M, Not Beta Read, Polyamory Negotiations, Relationship Negotiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-27 01:07:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl/pseuds/Crowgirl
Summary: ‘We never.’





	Of Sneaking and Scents II

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Catchclaw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catchclaw/gifts).



> Happy birthday, friend!

‘Is he always this sensitive?’ Tony asks, propping himself up on his elbows between Bucky’s knees, one hand on Bucky’s thigh as though he might shy or try to get away from the place that, if he’s honest with himself, he’s wanted to be in since he realized it was a place he _could_ be in. He’s pillowed on Steve’s knees, the warm wall of Steve’s chest propping up his shoulders, Bucky’s jeans are bunched around his ankles, and Tony is spread out on his belly between Bucky’s legs.

Steve’s hands are in his hair and, until two seconds ago, Tony had been kissing his way over Bucky’s thighs with a kind of patience Bucky hadn’t thought him entirely capable of. Now, though, he’s waiting for an answer to his question and Bucky realises Steve has gone still and quiet. 

Bucky looks down at Tony who’s watching them, his dark eyes flicking between them; when he notices Bucky’s looking at him, the corner of his mouth turns up and he leans forward, slowly, holding Bucky’s gaze, and presses a long, wet kiss to Bucky’s hipbone. If Bucky weren’t well on his way to hard already, that would be enough to do the trick. 

But Steve’s silent, gone still above him, and Bucky can feel that, too. 

‘He wouldn’t know.’ His voice is a bit too loud; he can feel Steve jerk under him and Tony blinks. Bucky puts a hand on Steve’s knee, gripping hard enough for Steve to feel it. ‘We never… We never.’

Tony blinks again, propping his chin on one fist. ‘Holy shit,’ he remarks mildly after a moment or two. ‘I mean, I figured maybe you hadn’t been on the regular but--’

‘It was my fault,’ Steve interrupts and when Bucky starts to shake his head, to push himself up, to protest, Steve holds him where he is. ‘It was, Buck. I was the one who never -’ He pauses and clears his throat and Bucky can’t quite believe this but he’s watching Steve _blush,_ slow and pink all over those cheekbones Bucky’s thought about biting more times than he cares to remember. ‘It was my fault,’ Steve repeats. ‘I was the coward.’

‘I was there, too, y’know,’ Bucky points out, but Steve shakes his head again and gives him a thin smile. 

‘I’ve had how many years to think this one over?’

 _‘But,’_ Tony says, a little more loudly than needful so both Steve and Bucky look over at him. ‘I think we have established that the -- uh -- _thought_ was there. The impulse? Shall we say?’ 

There’s no need to answer that question; Bucky knows damn well Stark’s got his fingertips against the pulse point below his hipbone and he can feel Steve thick and heavy in his jeans under Bucky’s shoulderblade. 

Tony’s eyes flick between them, then he sighs and twirls the fingers of his free hand in the air. ‘That was a hint. In case you didn’t notice. An indication of the opportunity which now presents itself.’ He runs the flat of his hand over Bucky’s belly, over the curve of his ribs, and squeezes Steve’s thigh hard. Steve doesn’t say anything, hasn’t moved, and Bucky can’t think what the fuck to do -- it’s not like he needed Stark to point out that this is pretty much as good as it’s ever going to get but Steve isn’t moving, isn’t talking, and-- 

‘Or,’ Tony goes on, slow and even, ‘we can decide this was all just an impulse gone too far and call it a night.’ He shrugs and Bucky recognizes it as the elaborately casual movement Tony makes when about to try and dismiss something that matter more to him than he wants someone to know. ‘I think we can all guess where I come down on the question but, really, it’s up to you gents.’ 

Bucky swallows hard, once, twice, and makes himself look back up at Steve. Steve’s looking down at him, a tiny line between his eyebrows, and Bucky’s heart _hurts._ ‘Steve.’ He reaches up, the metal of his fingers gleaming in the dim light, and slips his hand around the back of Steve’s neck. He’s imagined doing it so many times that some part of his brain thinks he can feel skin, the prickle of short hairs.

‘Hey, Buck.’ The corners of Steve’s mouth quirk up but the line between his brows doesn’t disappear. 

Bucky pushes himself up on his right hand so he’s close to Steve’s face, possibly closer than he’s ever been before although he doesn’t think so. ‘Remember -- remember thirty-nine? That stupid party I made you go to?’

Steve’s mouth turns up into something more like a genuine smile. ‘Your girlfriend’s birthday party.’

‘Yeah. That stupid party.’ Bucky pushes himself further up the bed, ignoring the uncomfortable tug of denim on his feet, feeling Tony move with him, an unexpectedly comforting weight against his knees. ‘Remember when we got home that night?’

‘You mean when you could barely walk up the stairs you were so hammered?’ 

‘I’ll tell you a secret.’ Bucky leans his forehead against Steve’s and mock-whispers: ‘I had two beers all night. I was just trying to grab your ass.’ 

Tony snorts and claps a hand over his mouth. Steve stares at Bucky for a long minute, then laughs; the lines of worry, of thought too deep for this moment, fade away and he falls back against the headboard, giggling like the skinny little kid he had been in that stairwell. Bucky grins back at him, his thumb moving in the soft space just below Steve’s ear. ‘I know I've been kinda slow but... Lemme make good on it?’ 

Steve shakes his head, still snickering to himself, and before Bucky’s heart can complete its crash, Steve’s mouth is on his, both of Steve’s hands on the back of his head, holding him steady, holding him in place as if there were ever any fucking place else he wanted to be. 


End file.
